"Five years," Maudeline mutters to herself, "is five years too short between now and that disaster."
She was at least partially correct. It was indeed five years since what the town called the corpse bride incident, and it was an incident she'd rather forget. Five years ago, she could walk past the foyer after sunset no problem. Five years after the incident, she dreads doing so, thinking she can still hear the rattling of thouse blasted undead bones. But other than that she seemed fine. Rattled, sure, bit fine. She was the eldest Merrimack child before marrying into the Everglot line, afterall, and had given birth and lived when the odds were aginst her. She was a woman of fine standing (albeit finnancialy dependant on fish merchants which she never mentions). She could recover from seeing the dead if she could claim all this. She was a prime example of the proper wife, after all. What could let someone say otherwise?
"Lady Everglot?" called the family maid Hildegarde, "May I come in?"
Maudeline's heart skipped a beat at the familiar voice, but not out of fear like it had before. Why would she have a reason to fear her maid if it had? Hildegarde was a trusted employee who worked at the manor ever since Maudeline was promised to Finis, stood by her ever since she bacame a widow three years ago, and has been loyal ever since.
"Lady Everglot? Is everything all right? Are you in there?"
"Yes, Hildegarde. You may come in." Maudeline, awkwardly realizing she had been quiet for longer than usual, responded.
Maudeline found the peculiarities for that moment had only begun. When Hildegarde entered, Maudeline found her gaze lingered on her longer than usual, thankful she seemed to be the only one to have noticed. Furthermore, when Hildegarde came over to help with her corset, Maudeline felt her heart race and as a sudden warmth filled her cheeks. But she didn't know why. Hildegarde helping her with her corset was morning routine, nothing more, nothing less. And yet today felt different. She didn't know how, it just felt different. With each pull of the corset laces, she felt her breath taken away, albeit in uncharacteristic gasps.
"Is everything alright, lady Everglot?"
"What?"
"You were just gasping as I was tightening your corset. It's not too tight, is it?"
"N-no, Hildegarde. It's... it's fine. Just an off day for me I suppose. You may leave now."
As Hildegarde left to tend to her other duties around the mansion, Maudeline kept a emotionless exterior. However internaly, she was panicing in a way she had only done once before when the dead walked the earth. Had she just studdered?! A proper lady never studders! And what had happened with her corset? She never felt uncomfortable in her corset ever since she got used to it, and it truly didn't feel too tight this time. She soon notices her heart was still racing and looks in the mirror.
"It's just an off day," she says to herself, "nothing more, nothing less."
This was what she repeated to herself as she went to the dining room for breakfast. But a part of her, a tiny, microscopic, little part of her, felt something changing. And no matter what she said, that tiny, microscopic, little part of her knew that her life from that point on would go acording to an unexpected plan.